Page 87 of The Beast's Broken Beauty

Chapter fifty-one

Isabella

Antonio'sfaceisabattlefield of emotions - desperate, conflicted, haunted. But as I sink to my knees, his gaze locks onto mine, and I see something else emerge: a raw, primal need. It's intoxicating, this power I hold over him. Me, on my knees, yet feeling like I could conquer his world.

The entire world.

His fingers tangle in my short curls, grip tightening as I lean in.

When my tongue makes contact with his impressive length (and seriously, those romance novels I've been devouring weren't exaggerating), a tremor runs through me. It's like electricity, crackling across my skin, igniting every nerve ending.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" He rasps out as his hips flex forward. "You're loving tasting me, making me weak and strong all at once."

I glance up at him, drinking in the sight. Those dark eyes that have haunted my dreams. The strong jaw I've traced with my fingertips countless times. The stubble that's growing wilder by the minute. I know the scars on his face, on his body as well as I know my own. Maybe better.

As my tongue darts out again, swirling around him, his hand reaches out to brace himself against the door. Like I could bring the mighty Beast to his knees. The thought sends a thrill through me.

I can't help but smile, which draws another groan from him. "You're going to let me in your sweet pussy after you finish me off?"

I tilt my head, pretending to consider. My fingers trail up and down his cock before cupping his balls. He doesn't stop watching, even as I feel his legs tighten. He's close, so close to losing control.

"I will..." And because I'm feeling bold, drunk on the power of this moment, I continue. "I'm dripping... wet," I murmur. "That cream you gave me? It's nothing short of magic."

"You're magic." And like he's trying to regain some control, he mutters, "It's like vaginal estrogen but faster... it's the next step." He inhales deeply, and I know, I know this man is doing his best not to pick me up, throw me on the bed and fuck me until I forget my own name. Because he both wants this moment and wants me to decide. He continues, "Vaginal estrogen takes weeks to work. Sometimes months. And it's great. But women shouldn't have to wait that long. Fuck, Viagra works right away from what I hear. And we're going to give it to every fucking hospital in the world. I'm buying that pharmaceutical company and making it free to every woman who wants it, needs it..."

His words have another wave of desire surging through me. This complex, infuriating man - capable of such cruelty and such kindness. My tongue teases him again, savoring the gutturalmoan that escapes him. My name tumbles from his lips, a mix of reverence and desperate need that sends shivers down my spine. The heat that's been simmering low in my belly blazes hotter, and I know that soon, very soon, I'll need more than this.

But I take my time with my Beast. Each swipe of my tongue, each teasing touch is a rediscovery. I catalog every reaction - the sharp intake of breath when I graze that sensitive spot, the way his muscles tense under my fingertips.

When I finally take him fully into my mouth, the sound he makes is nothing short of earth-shattering. It's a roar that seems to come from the depths of his soul, vibrating through me, feeding the inferno building inside.

In this moment, haunted or not, conflicted or not, he's mine.

I want to taste him, to hear him lose that last shred of control. I want my name on his lips, not as a growl or a command, but as a plea, a prayer.

As I take him deeper, I'm not sure if I'm sucking him or he's fucking my mouth anymore. It doesn't matter. What matters is the way his breath hitches, the way his fingers tighten in my hair. When he finally shatters, spilling between my lips, time seems to slow. I savor every twitch, every groan, committing it all to memory.

Before I can catch my breath, he's lifting me up, his lips crashing into mine. The kiss is searing, desperate, and it only intensifies the throbbing between my legs. God, I need him. Now.

"Aren't you going to need a minute?" I manage to gasp out, partly teasing, partly genuinely curious.

His answering grin is pure sin. "Oh, but love, as I wait, I'll make you come at least three times..."

The promise in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Three times? Challenge accepted, Beast. Show me what you've got.

He lays me on the bed, his hands roaming my body with a hunger that matches my own, and a fleeting thought crosses my mind. Tomorrow, I'll be on a plane to Greece, facing a mother I thought was dead and a past I barely understand. Tomorrow, I'll be gone.

But as his lips find that sensitive spot on my neck, I push the thought away. Tonight, I won't think about Greece, about my mother, about the uncertain future that awaits us.

Tonight, I'll lose myself in him, in us.

Because who knows when – or if – we'll have this again?

Chapter fifty-two

Antonio

Nothingfuckingcomparestoseeing Isabella completely lose it. I've already made her come twice, and each time is burned into my memory.

---